It won't kill him

Once upon a time, we were moving from St Geo to Long Beach Washington. Angie had just left for her year at college in Seattle and thankfully had helped me pack a bunch of boxes. However, we still had the entire house with furniture to move into the trailer and moving truck. Felix was six and Robee, four. We had no one to help us except a homeless man named Eldon, who we now think was Jesus because out of all the people in neighborhood and church, he was the ONLY one to come to our aid. We did pay him since he was homeless, but I know he would have done it without pay since he was that kind of guy.

Anyway here we are - Thomas, Eldon and myself - trying to move rooms of furniture and boxes of stuff for three days straight. And what of my little children, Felix and Robee? I plopped them down in front of the TV and had them watch "Little Mermaid" and whatever other Disney movies we had on hand. And to eat? Felix had Kentucky Fried Chicken pretty much every day and Robee had Apples, Cheese and Fishy Crackers. Every day. For three days. For three meals.

Did I feel guilty? Probably not. I was so tired and frustrated trying to pack that I was grateful that they had something to eat that they liked. Did it kill them? Nope. They were fine.

Why tell this story? Because for the last month, Robee has been having this for at least two meals during the day, at least everyday:
Strawberry Shortcake.

For some reason, he has become obsessed with eating Strawberry Shortcake. And I have to make it a certain way, with a certain type of shortcake, with a certain type of whip cream each time. He's lucky we had such a late strawberry season since there are still plenty of fresh ones to be bought.

Will it kill him, eating the same thing everyday? Doubtful. I have discovered that sometimes kids want to eat only certain things for a period of time. It used to freak me out, thinking they weren't getting something important in their diet or getting too much of something else. Luckily, kids' systems are a lot smarter than us and they will regulate themselves.

At some point in time, he will get tired of this wonderful dessert but until then, I know one of our memories of his life will be the Summer of Strawberry Shortcakes. I love him for that.

Trying to find summer

It’s been really hard. This summer has been almost non-existent. Even the locals are having a hard time with this rainy, cool weather.

Our typically wonderful Strawberry Festival was a bit of a bust. The parade came through but the picking and selling and eating of strawberries was delayed and sadly not as wonderful as it had been during our past years of June.

Luckily for about a week, there was some warmer weather with sun during the first week of July and people were able to get out and harvest their berries then. And just as suddenly as the sun came out, it hid it’s warm face behind the clouds again.

So, while we had family visiting for a bit, we tried to make the best of it and pretend it was warm and sunny and warm and sunny (yes, I’m quite aware I repeated myself). I guess I’m still part desert rat; I don’t mind this weather during the fall and winter but my bones really do need that hot, bright sun to get me ready for the next season to come. August is our next great hope, because after that is my least favorite month and season, September and autumn, and then school starts and the kids and I will be sad not to have been able to soak up a little summer sun, swim at our wonderful Stilly River, and lounge at Jetty Island. Very sad indeed.

Blueberries trying to gain their color.

One tiny zucchini trying it’s best to grow nice and big for bread.

This dog (Porter) ate the first large zucchini in the garden. This is problem of having a vegetarian dog.

Kids at Kayak Point beach. When I told Max that we were going to the beach for some play time and beach combing, he promptly donned his swimsuit ready for the surf. He is not used to our beaches and water, which even in the warmest summer days, do not hit higher than about 60 degrees. He was a tad disappointed.

We will keep praying and wishing and hoping for our very late summer to finally come. Until then, hoodies and wellies are always waiting by the door.

Pumpkin, pumpkin ….

This is my pumpkin patch. Can you see the pumpkins? You probably can't unless you look really close. Really close.

Can you see any pumpkins yet?  No? How about now?

There they are!! Little stinkers hiding away inside all those weeds.

Since we've had so much rain this past month ... season ... year, the ground is really soft and so those weeds come and out of the ground with one little tug. It took me about an hour to clean the whole patch.

Now if it would only get warm so the little darlings could grow.  At this rate, I won't have pumpkins until NEXT fall.

This summer so far, has been rather dismal and dreary. The strawberry crop came in a month late. The corn crop was put in a month late but is still not growing well. Farmers in the area are scratching their heads, wondering how to buck their hay when it's so wet.

C'mon Summer Sun! Shine down!

Random July stuff

Here it is, almost the middle of July. Some things to note:

• There is still no floor in the bedroom. We put in the cork floor but it was such an odd color that we took it out and are now looking for another wood color. The bathroom does have a sink, shower head and toilet, so that’s good news.
• The weather has been crappy for growing or swimming. I don’t mind the grey as long as it’s warm but we could really use some heat (as I say this, the Midwest is sizzling) to help the gardens in our area. Especially the tomatoes. The slugs, however, are growing nicely. Ugh.
• 
• Our annual 4th of July Duck Dash came and went and it was a little lame. I’m always sad when they decide NOT to dump the ducks in the river; that is what makes the Duck Dash. They instead dump them on the ground and a lame old man dressed like a duck jumps into the mound and hands off random ducks to another old man dressed like another duck who then puts them in baggies for the Grand Prize drawing of $5000. I realize that they’re worried about the safety of the kayakers who are herding the ducks off the river (two river drownings so far) but its definitely an anti-climatic end to the day (minus the fireworks). 

 

• As per usual, a grand kid in my watch did a face plant. I’m going to start an album soon of all the injuries. That should make great dinner conversation.

Balls, anyone??

This is what I did yesterday:

 

This looks gross. This sounds gross. This is gross.

But it has to be done.

Each winter while walking on a damp floor, the pigeons get a buildup of wet goo which then form into balls

on their talons and toes. It’s quite hard not to have this happen since we have very wet winters here.

So once it gets nice again and the wet dries up, these balls harden on their toes and makes it a little hard for them to walk around. I can hear them clanking around on their perches when they land.

I then, since somehow I’ve evolved into some sort of pigeon-handler, have to (when I have an hour) take a pair of pliers and break open these “poop balls” and free their little toes. Sounds appealing, does it not? I would say not.

I will say though, that there is little comfort on my end. Even if I walk into the coop with "bird handler" mentality, the birds don't see it. I'm in there thinking, "as soon as the pigeons notice that their friend's toes are free, they'll come flocking to me, all wanting to have their poop balls removed. Lining UP, even, for this wonderful service." This is what I was thinking.

Yeah right. Felix and Thomas have this gift of being able to catch birds but it didn't fall to me. I'm in the coop, trying my best to be sneaky so that they don't know I'm trying to catch them. Guess what? They're not that stupid. I jumped and scurried and leaped and grabbed for a half an hour while they were all just barely escaping my grasp. I actually ended up with a scratch on my head and several on my arm from their talons as they were flying wildly around the coop. I'll probably end up with some sort of pigeon-scratch fever or ... even better ... bird DNA will penetrate my body and I will finally grow wings and fly.

At least we all got some exercise.

But it makes the bird feel so much better, so I guess it’s worth a little discomfort on my end for a bit of relief on their end.

The best thing is that I only have to do this once a year. The worst thing is that I forgot to wear my gloves. Ugh. Next time.

It never fails to rain when you have visitors

Last Saturday, I flew to Utah to bring back Maxito, Miss Biss, and RyRy for a visit. Em and Eric were going to drive here on Friday night with Baby to stay the next week.

The whole time the kids have been in Washington, it’s been great weather. I had them on Monday and then Tuesday we went to the park and beach and ate a picnic and just played. Wednesday, Thursday and Friday they stayed with the big kids so Owen and Ivy and Evan could play with them. Still, great weather. Yesterday, all the kids went to a splash park as the weather was perfect (we stayed home and did some much needed maintenance – again).

Now, it’s today. Today Greg had this great plan to go crabbing and fishing (crabbing season just opened) with those who wanted to go and of course ……. it’s raining. It looks to rain all day. Last time they planned a crabbing trip, the wind gales made the company where we were to rent the boats shut down the bay for crabbing.

I told Emilee it was her fault; every time she visits, we have some sort of crazy weather. Thanksgiving, the year of the Big Snow where we were homebound and had no power for almost four days, was their first visit. Last summer when she was here, the temperature was at an all time high for Arlington.

Or maybe ………. it’s because of Eric?